


roses & revelations

by ladydetective



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti Rafael, F/F, post 3x20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: After Luisa seizes the hotel, Luisa has some realising to do about herself and the things that she wants.





	roses & revelations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likevel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likevel/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNA!!!!   
> I know you like canon fic so I hope you enjoy this!   
> Also, thanks to Mickie for the beta.

Running a hotel had never been the career that she’d dreamed of, but Luisa had to admit that she was pretty damn good at it. As much people liked to undermine her intelligence, she was a smart woman and quickly able to grasp the intricacies of hotel management. Now, she was deftly able to deal with the day-to-day duties as well as hold her own with the board of directors, who’d eventually hailed her as a welcome addition to their ranks, and an acceptable successor to her father.

It hadn’t always been easy. The righteous anger that had prompted her to get into contact with her solicitors and eject Rafael from the hotel had dwindled after a couple of days, leaving her wracked with guilt – guilt over the testimony she’d given against Rose, and guilt over the way she’d treated her brother.

It was a sensation that she was intimately familiar with – she’d spent innumerable stints in rehab guilt-stricken over how her drinking had once again let down her family, or sometimes even hurt them. It inevitably led to her grovelling for their forgiveness, which she didn’t always receive – at least, rarely completely.

It was a habit she’d found herself slipping back into – one day, she’d been on the verge of phoning Rafael and begging him to forgive her, to take her back, to love her again – but this time, she didn’t _want_ to give the feeling any purchase.

She was beginning to realise that maybe – just maybe – Rafael had never been the good brother to her that people had always assumed him to be.

She’d had time to think since seizing the Marbella, to remember all the times that he’d made her feel like shit – selling out Rose had just been the tip of the iceberg, really. That had been a betrayal, no doubt – she’d never forget the things she’d felt when she saw Rose wrestled into handcuffs – but she knew why he did it. Rose had hurt him more than any other person, with the exception of Luisa herself, and he hadn’t had the same opportunity that she had had to see how she’d changed.

It was other things she was remembering now – things that she’d initially pinned down to stress on his part, or even blamed herself for. It was his reluctance to listen to her grievances when she’d suggested group therapy, his willingness to foist her off on a _babysitter_ even though he knew how she felt about that term, his refusal to let her even _meet his kids when she was the sole reason for the existence of one of them_.

Rose had always told her that Rafael was a piece of shit, going as far back as when they were just a stepmother and stepdaughter casually fucking around. Luisa hadn’t believed her then, just like she hadn’t believed her when she said that their room was bugged or that they shouldn’t drop everything and return to the Marbella on the basis of one phone call.

She’d been right, though. She’d been right the whole time.

And now she was stuck in jail, with little prospect of getting out.

As soon as Luisa had been granted full use of her inherited fortune, she’d set about finding the best defence attorney money could buy. Annalise had swiftly gotten the death penalty taken off the table, and promised Luisa that she was working on the rest, but Luisa didn’t hold out much hope. Rose had done _a lot_ during her decades as a crime lord, and pissed off _a lot_ of people. She was still facing several consecutive life sentences.

Thinking about both Rose and Rafael in those circumstances would have once driven her to drink, to go on the kind of bender there’d be no coming back from.  The urge to do so was still there – would likely always be there – but she wouldn’t let herself be consumed by it anymore. She’d been sober the entire three years that she and Rose had been together – the longest time she’d ever gone – and she couldn’t let that crumble now. She’d be stronger than Rafael expected her to be, the kind of strong that Rose always believed she could be.

The Marbella had proved to be an admirable distraction. Having something to do, something that she could devote her time and attention to had always helped dull the voice that told her to drink. She didn’t enjoy the work, per se, but there were certain elements of it that she appreciated. There was a reason that she’d chosen to specialise in gynaecology, with a minor in paediatrics – she loved children, and always had. Though the Marbella was now noisier than it had ever been and certainly very different to the hotel that she’d grown up in, she found that she enjoyed the new direction that Petra and Rafael had decided to take with it. Whenever she’d had a particularly trying day, unable to escape thoughts of Rose or Rafael, she could go down to the lobby or recreation area and see the little kids, faces alight with the thrill of whatever game they were playing. She’d even taken to occasionally helping out the on-site entertainer – making balloon animals, applying face-paint, whatever was required, really. It never failed to brighten her day.

Luisa stretched, snapping herself out of her musings and mentally preparing herself to deal with the mound of paperwork that was sitting next to her at the desk, which needed to be completed before she turned in for the night. Her eyes caught on a small envelope positioned near the edge. It didn’t look like a business-related letter – most of those were sent by email – and there was a distinctive floral scent coming from within.

There was one word written on the outside of the envelope – a simple _Luisa_ – but it almost caused her heart to stop. She _knew_ that handwriting, had seen it innumerable times before.

She’d visited Rose several times since the initial arrest, but none of them had been particularly beneficial. It had been hard to see the other woman in the orange jumpsuit, clearly frustrated with the condition she was in, and know that she was at least partially responsible for it. Luisa had grown enough to know that the true fault lay with Rafael for turning her in – or with Rose for committing the crimes in the first place – but she also knew that Rose wouldn’t have been arrested had she not been so willing to jump at Rafael’s every request. The visits had also been supervised – in a different room to their first one – and the two of them had been separated by glass panelling. In order to speak to each other, they had to speak through phones on either side of the panelling. It was a very cold, impersonal way to communicate, and their conversations were almost certainly being monitored.

They hadn’t been able to say all that needed to be said.

She tore open the envelope cautiously, not fully believing that it was even real. But of course it was – of course Rose had been able to circumvent prison regulations to get her this letter. _Of course_. _As if something as menial as the rules of a maximum security prison could prevent Rose Solano from saying what she wanted to say_ , mused Luisa with a fond smirk.

_Luisa,_

_I’m sorry that it had to be this way. I’m sorry that it was your brother who came between us, because I know the pain that must be causing you. But more than that – I’m sorry that my actions have interfered with what was supposed to be our happily ever after – and yes, know that I rolled my eyes when writing that. The things we do for love._

She snorted, pausing her reading. She could clearly imagine Rose sitting down and writing this – forcibly dragging her pen across the page while writing anything remotely emotional – which she’d describe as _sappy_ – the written equivalent of spitting out the words. The last line was probably an attempt to add her usual dramatics, to lessen the emotional impact of her apologies, but Luisa still felt it. It meant more to her than she could properly articulate, and was an indicator of how far they’d come. She turned her eyes back to the letter, reading on eagerly.

_But Luisa, I promise you that this is not the end. We will get our happily ever after, perhaps just a little later than I had planned. I am getting out, one way or another._

Luisa’s eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat – the prospect of Rose returning to her seemed too good to be true. How on earth could she manage it? She was in a _maximum security prison_ , for crying out loud. She continued on hungrily, hoping that it would give her the answers she needed.

_I can’t give you details, in case this letter falls into the wrong hands, but I will be free of this place in one month. However, I will be so as a wanted woman. If you chose to come with me – and I hope you will, but I will not try to force you, as I have learned my lesson on that count – we will have to leave Miami, and never return. You will need to get your affairs in order – sell the hotel, say whatever subtle goodbyes that need saying – then meet me at the place where it all began, ready to begin a new life, in thirty days._

_If you chose not to come with me and this turns out to be our last communication, know that I would not blame you and that I understand. I love you, Luisa, more than I have ever loved anyone else, more than I ever **could** love anyone else. I have enjoyed our time together more than I ever thought possible. Thank you for that._

_Love always,_

 

Luisa exhaled sharply. Rose’s offer was… a lot. It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar – she’d asked her to run away with her before, more than once – but she’d never had responsibilities of her own, before. She’s been a failed doctor, a failed sister, and mostly failing at recovery. But now she – wasn’t. She had the hotel, she hadn’t had a drink in over three years, and she was slowly learning to stop prioritising Rafael’s wellbeing over her own.

Going with Rose in a month’s time would mean abandoning the life she’d built here, a life that had taken a lot of work to build up. She wasn’t happy, exactly, but she was… fulfilled. She had a purpose when she woke up in the morning, something that would occupy her day. She wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder, worried that the cops were just around the corner.

But she _had_ been happy with Rose. It hadn’t been an easy or a risk-free life, but it had been a happy one. She’d always dreamed of being able to wake up next to Rose without the pressing need for one or both of them to return to their respective spouses, and she’d been able to do that every day during the three years that they’d spent together. And more – they’d been able to do all the things that couples were meant to do. Go on honest-to-god dates, show affection for each other in public – anything they wanted to, really.

It was worth a little paranoia.

And it would _always_ be worth it.

Reaching her decision, Luisa picked up the phone and dialled her secretary’s number. ‘Nick, get the board of directors on the line. I have a hotel to sell.’

* * *

 

The intervening month seemed to pass both quickly and slowly.

Quickly, because – during her waking hours at least – there was a lot of business to settle, and a month was a very short amount of time to do it in. As much as Luisa despised the influence that money had on the people around her, she was willing to acknowledge that, at least in the short run, they’d need to keep pretty substantial amounts close to hand. They’d lived off the proceeds of Rose’s criminal activities during the three years that they’d been together, but those accounts – at least, the ones that Luisa had been aware of – had been frozen after the arrest. There was no way of knowing for sure if there were others, or the amount of access to them Rose would be able to have after she escaped. It wasn’t as if either of them would be able to get a decent job while on the run – at least in the short term, as Luisa fully intended to get her medical licence back once the dust had settled – but they’d need something to live off in the meantime.

Luisa hadn’t been entirely oblivious during their time together – Rose had kept her promise, as far as she could, but criminal empires weren’t dissolved overnight. There were times when the other woman _had_ to resort to illegal means – to protect _them_ , their secret, their lives – and while Luisa hadn’t liked it, she’d understood. She’d even picked up on a couple of things, such as how to move money to places that the authorities wouldn’t find it.

Then there was the matter of selling the hotel. _That_ was more difficult for her, mainly due to the time that she’d invested in it – but at the end of the day, she thought that it may just be a good thing. For all the purpose it had given her over the past few months, the Marbella still held a _lot_ of bad memories. This was the place where her father had been murdered, where Rose had broken up with her countless times, where her relationship with Rafael had disintegrated. Perhaps a clean break _would_ be best.

Petra had been sceptical when she’d told her about selling up – it saddened Luisa, really, the relationship that the two of them had. They could have been friends, in another life. But too much time had passed, too many things had come between them – Rafael being the most prevalent of them. Luisa thought that Petra may have been a little suspicious of her motivations, so she’d spouted some excuse about wanting to be closer to her shaman. Petra had rolled her eyes and accepted it.

However, in other ways the month passed _excruciatingly_ slowly. Luisa was painfully aware of exactly how long it would be before she could see Rose again – she had a counter on her phone which told her the precise number of hours, and every time she checked it – which was _frequently_ – their reunion seemed further and further away. Despite Rose having been in prison for several months now, Luisa still woke up every morning and turned to her side with a smile on her face, ready to wake up her girlfriend with a good morning kiss, which would hopefully escalate into something more. Every damn day, she’d realise that this was an illusion and the disappointment that she’d feel would be crushing.

Now, though, as she waited at the counter of the bar where they’d first met, Luisa felt excitement course through her body – it was finally time. A full month of organising, planning and pining was behind her – she was ready to begin her happily ever after, wholly and without reservation.

The barmaid, noticing that she was alone and not drinking anything, came over and asked if she’d like to order anything. Luisa politely refused – there was a time that such an offer would have proven to be a significant test to her sobriety, and she would have been hard-pressed to do anything but accept – but now she gave it hardly a second thought. Her mind was too busy imagining the days, months, even years ahead of her. The two of them really would be able to go anywhere, do anything – in the past, Luisa had been reluctant to go along with some of Rose’s more eccentric ideas – she’d wanted to stay near Miami and the Marbella, with the vain hope that Rafael may yet change his mind. But she had no such reservations now, and as such allowed her mind to wander.

She became so lost in thought that she failed to notice a woman entering the bar. She didn’t look quite the same as she had during their first meeting – instead of the red dress that Luisa remembered so fondly, she wore plain trousers and a hoodie. Her eyes were obscured by a large pair of sunglasses, though it was possible just make out her hair – which, rather than red and curly, was brunette and straight – despite the apparent difficulties of acquiring a hair straightener in prison.

But though history wasn’t _quite_ repeating itself, it came close enough. She walked over to the still-unaware woman at the bar, the same confidence in her gait that there had always been. Though it somewhat ruined the blasé image that she was trying to project, she couldn’t prevent the fond smile from gracing her features. She cleared her throat, and lowered her sunglasses enough that Luisa would be able to see her eyes.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ She asked, a smirk in her voice and history in her words.

Luisa turned slowly, as if she was the heroine in some kind of romantic movie. She smiled – though _beamed_ would probably be a more accurate descriptor – and replied, ‘Sorry, over three years sober.’


End file.
